Desert Hearts

"Oh...ugh...oh...oh...Mel...oh God...eat me..." she groaned lustily.

Samantha's pungent womanly juices flowed freely and I gulped the delicious nectar down my throat. I just couldn't get enough and feasted tirelessly until her muscular legs imprisoned my head.

Samantha's bucked hard against my mouth, her hips undulating rapidly, riding the waves of her orgasm like a rodeo star. As her movements lessened, I lifted her ass higher and eyed her pink rose cluster.

To Samantha's surprise but enthusiastic approval, I "tossed her salad". My tongue settled in the valley between her cheeks and I voraciously licked the hyper sensitive flesh, stabbing at the tight ring in the center.

With well placed fingers reaming her drenched pussy, I brought my beautiful friend to another breathy orgasm.

"Oh...oh...oh...oh..." she moaned repeatedly.

Samantha gazed at me with a starry eyed look.

"Gosh Mel...that was...wonderful...it's been awhile for me..."

Samantha didn't elaborate and hastily relieved me of my denims. Watching her eat my pussy was a dream come true and after a thunderous "O", I nestled in her arms. Samantha held me so tenderly that my heart throbbed uncontrollably. We stayed locked in a loving embrace for a long time, neither of us wanting to let go. To do so would acknowledge a return to the present.

The years had been kind to us; she looked lovelier than ever. Samantha's tall lean body had filled out somewhat with a few more curves, the after effects of having two children. Although she was thirty-eight years old, she could easily pass for twenty-eight.

I maintained a toned, trim figure by religiously working out five days a week and weight training had added some eye popping muscles to my bod. Finally Samantha pulled back and gazed at me with the fondest expression, some might call it love and that's what it felt like to me.

"We'd better go back, it's late..." she said sadly.

We mounted up and rode in silence to the ranch. My body still tingled from the intense pleasure Samantha accorded me but my heart was heavy, close to despair. There was so much I wanted to say to her; that I still loved her; that I desired her more than any other person in my life. I kept it all inside and never uttered one word.

As we approached the corral, I heard raised child voices coming from the barn. I quickly dismounted, tied my horse to the post and walked to the entrance. What I saw shocked me. Libby and Cole were arm wrestling on a bale of hay and by the looks of it, my daughter was winning. I sensed Samantha at my side and we just gawked at our kids.

"Way to go Lib...he's goin' down again...Thalia shrieked.

Cole's arm was moving in the wrong direction.

"You gonna let a GIRL beat ya?" Bobby yelled at his brother.

Apparently Samantha and I were witnessing the second match.

"How'd your daughter get so strong?" Samantha asked out of the side of her mouth at me.

"Gymnastics," I answered definitively, and she nodded in a knowing way.

Libby was almost nine years old and had been involved in gymnastics since she was seven. With a look of steely determination, my daughter forced Cole's hand backward until it met the straw.

Thalia saw us and ran over.

"Who started this?" I asked incredulously.

"...Libby said girls were stronger than boys...and Cole says 'No way'...and Libby says 'I can prove it'...and Cole says 'How'...and Libby says 'We'll arm wrestle'...and Cole says 'Ok but I don't want to hurt you'...and Libby says...'Oh yeah'..."

"...Ok sweetheart I get the picture..."

Libby was jogging in place, pumping her fists in the air, really whooping it up. Poor Cole was slumped against the hay bale and looked like a train had run over him.

Abruptly, Libby stopped celebrating.

"Hey Cole...let's shake...no hard feelings?" My daughter asked kindly and extended her hand.

Cole buried his head in his hands.

"Aw Cole, don't be sore at me...I told ya girls are stronger..."

Cole looked up but when he saw Samantha, his faced turned a deep shade of red. Libby had embarrassed him in front of his mother.

"Please Cole...let's be friends..." Libby pleaded.

Cole walked toward his mother with his head down until it came to rest against her stomach. The boy was obviously distressed by his defeat to a girl no less. Samantha put her arms around him.

"Cole? Libby wants to shake your hand. Did she win fair and square?"

"Yes ma'am..." he said barely above a whisper.

"Then go on...be a good sport..."

Cole was the spitting image of Samantha, blonde, blue eyed and handsome. He looked up at Samantha and appeared to be on the verge of tears. Slowly he turned, made his way to my daughter with his hand extended.

Libby, the little scamp was grinning from ear to ear but I knew she'd be gracious in victory. One lesson I always stressed, never rub it in your opponents face.

After they shook hands, Libby put her arm around Cole's shoulders as a sympathetic gesture.

"You're very strong for a boy," she said in a soothing voice.

Cole looked at my daughter with genuine affection.

"Ya really mean that Libby?"

"Sure I do..."

Cole's first confrontation with the opposite sex and he came out on the losing end. How the times had changed. Girls were much more empowered than in my day.

Libby's placating attitude and kind words had Cole smiling in no time and they got on famously for the remainder of our stay.

The following day my brief respite from reality came to an end and for the second time in my life, I had to say farewell to Samantha. As much as I tried to keep my emotions in check, I failed.

We stood on the front porch of the ranch house and I gazed up at Samantha knowing that it might be a long time before I saw her again. Just her presence alone brought joy and happiness to me but our lives lay on different paths.

"Goodbye my dear friend," she said with fondness.

"Bye Sam..." I uttered softly.

Immediately I choked up and Samantha took me in her arms.

"Don't cry Mel...I'll never forget you..." She whispered in my ear.

The tears came in torrents and I wept on her shoulder.

"I'll never forget you Sam...as long as I live..." I blubbered.

Our children were saying goodbye next to my Honda, oblivious to the mini drama on the porch.

"You have a special place in my heart..." she said very quietly, and when I looked up, her eyes were wet.

"This is soo hard Sam..."

Samantha held me close and tenderly kissed my damp cheeks. My heart was breaking but I gathered every ounce of strength I could and stopped weeping. One last friendly squeeze, I broke our embrace and walked down the stairs. I turned to wave and Samantha was wiping away tears.

Thalia was climbing in the back seat when I saw my feisty daughter Libby give Cole a hug and kiss on the cheek. The handsome boy's face turned crimson red.

"Bye Cole, I had a fun time..." she yelled as I pulled away.

On the long drive back to California, I wallowed in self-pity until I remembered the valuable lessons that I learned that mystical summer. My life changed in the most positive ways and I had Samantha to thank for that. It brought a smile to my face and lightened my mood considerably.

2008:

All the commotion in the family room died down and I guessed correctly that the girls had laid out their sleeping bags and were talking quietly among themselves. My home was popular for sleepovers and I didn't mind one bit as I enjoyed the camaraderie that my daughter's friends seemed to have with one another.

I turned on the television in the kitchen and watched the last few segments of Saturday Night Live. Tina Fey was channeling Sarah Palin, John McCain's running mate with hilarious results.

But, my memories refused to go away. My true feelings still lay hidden after all these years. A part of me still loved Samantha, more than I cared to admit to myself let alone anyone else. No one I'd met since that surreal summer ignited such strong feelings and emotions like she did.

Oh, I loved Harry or I convinced myself that I loved him. The marriage was destined to fail and it did miserably. He was the first and only man in my life. While the sex was passable, I yearned for the soft lips and touch only another female can bring to the bedroom. What I never told Samantha was my dislike for sex with my husband. She had spoiled me for life.

You see dear reader, there were women after Samantha but none of them held my heart in the palm of her hand like she did.

Saying goodbye to Samantha at the end of my tenure at the ranch was hardest thing I experienced in my life because I knew with all my heart and soul that she was the one. But society and its mores would not allow such a union and I honestly don't know if she would have welcomed it. The underlying cultural pull to find a man and settle down permeated the female psyche; at least I know it did for me.

But, I was in love with Samantha and I believe that she was in love with me. The way she'd look at me, hold me in her sinewy arms and kiss me with a fervor that transcended mere sex.

When I went to see Samantha with my girls, my pulse quickened and raced as the emotion inside me bubbled to the surface. Our brief tryst on the mesa proved to me that what we shared was special and unforgettable.

Because of her I clarified my murky sexuality, my tenuous need for a female of the species. With Samantha I completely understood my desires.

However, our lives were separate; she was happily married with two handsome sons to care for. My marriage was on the skids and my two girls were the joy of my life. Our destinies lay on different paths

But, my feelings for Samantha that lay buried in my heart remained. I found love in the desert and I've truly never gotten over her.

Now I'm a middle aged woman, approaching fifty. I see my therapist, Natalia, twice a week and she's the only living person on the planet who knows about Samantha and me; my genuine feelings.

Natalia is adamant that I look for a woman to love, that my past with Samantha is just that; in the past. I've managed to keep myself in excellent shape over the years, lean and muscular. I've had my share of woman, thanks to my physique, but a female to love? It hasn't happened and I'm doubtful that it will.

Soon both my daughters will be in college and my home will be empty for months on end. I'm dreading the loneliness. Buried in my bedroom closet is a small photo album with pictures of Samantha. Occasionally when I'm feeling downhearted and depressed, I look at them and it lifts my spirit to know that what we shared was something very precious.

One photograph in particular never fails to bring a tear or two to my eyes; its early morning just after sunrise and we're off in the desert with our horses. Samantha is attired in her Levi's, western work shirt, her blonde hair pulled back and braided in a ponytail, hat sitting just right atop her head. She's dismounted, holding the reins in one hand and facing the sun. Her profile is stunningly intimate with the surroundings and it showcases just how lovely she was at that time of her life.

My heart skips a beat as I recall my cherished memories of Samantha. I hold them dear to my heart, and I always will.

END